


Of These Intangible Things

by Furorscribiendi



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, sexual situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furorscribiendi/pseuds/Furorscribiendi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto are in the office late one night, looking over a box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of These Intangible Things

**Author's Note:**

> I guess the best way to think of this is as a prequel to 'Adam.'

Ianto loves to look at Jack.

It’s usually in the dead of night when it’s just the two of them in the Hub. They usually work on some obscure thing that Tosh would analyze to death. And since it generally doesn’t breathe or live, it’s out of Owen’s sphere of caring. And Gwen… bless her, but Gwen would keep at the problem until it couldn’t be solved or she gave up in extreme frustration.

It’s an interesting sort of puzzle box that they’ve dug up out of storage this time. Jack says something about the mental exercise being even better than the kakuro book that’s sometimes on Tosh’s desk.

Ianto distinctly remembers Jack’s nipples tenting the fabric of his shirt as he sat down at his desk with the box. The Hub is usually a few degrees cooler than outside in the summer. Jack normally takes about five minutes to acclimatize. Ten if he’s been wearing that coat of his.

Jack is turning over the box in his hands. Ianto comes over and sits on the corner of the desk, watching him. Ianto loves Jack’s hands. They’re strong and capable. They’ve saved lives time and time again. But Ianto has seen the other side to them too, a relentless merciless side that’s like a darker twin. As much as they have saved lives, they have taken life time and time again.

Conversely, those same hands have made Ianto come so many times. After sex, Ianto might as well be dead to the world, so maybe Jack does have power over life and death… in some delightfully perverse sexual way.

Not that Ianto is complaining about that.

Actually come to think of it, everyone would be surprised at the lurid cesspool that Ianto’s mind could become. Lisa had always said she was surprised at some of the filth he came up with. Of course that had been right before she’d give him that brilliant grin and kiss him.

Jack was almost the same, except it was a slow, sly look from the side that promised far too many things. If Owen really knew what some of his lab coats had been used for, the bastard would torch the old ones, order new ones and keep them under lock and key.

That wouldn’t be much of a deterrent though. A determined Jack isn’t someone to be trifled with. Jack’s also said the same thing about Ianto. But that could be a biased opinion since Jack also says that a determined Ianto is one of the sexiest things in the galaxy. Ever.

“Ianto.”

He looks up to find Jack looking at him intently. One of Jack’s hands is on his hip, thumb stroking gently.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine. Just… remembering things.”

“Like?”

“Lisa,” a slow smile comes to Ianto’s face. “You.”

“Good things I hope.”

Ianto smiles and leans in while murmuring, “Always.”

There is only one way that Ianto can think of to describe Jack’s kisses: it’s like dynamite. You light the fuse and when it goes off, does it ever go off. When it’s all said and done, if you still have your wits about, then you’re damn lucky. Like that one weekend, where it had been absolutely quiet… Ianto and Jack finally had some alone time after three weeks of hell. That had been one beautifully pyroclastic weekend. Ianto was sure that he could be ninety five and have Alzheimer’s and he wouldn’t forget it.

Jack chuckles during the kiss and Ianto pulls back a bit to look at him.

“There are times I think that you do think too much,” Jack watches him for a moment before he gives an almost imperceptible sigh and turns his attention back to the box.

Ianto grins as he slides into Jack’s lap and takes his face in his hands. “I do, don’t I?”

He doesn’t give Jack time to think, to come up with a suitably witty response. They could do the entendre banter all night but that leaves Ianto feeling very, very frustrated. Jack’s hands slide up his back, pressing him closer and kissing him almost frantically. Ianto loves this almost desperate tinge that sometimes colours their lovemaking.

It’s as if Jack simply can’t get enough of him soon enough, and would die without him.

Ianto moves his hands up to the collar of Jack’s shirt and quickly starts on undoing his buttons. The quicker Jack is naked, the better it is for the both of them. Jack seems to think the exact same thing. He quickly pushes the box aside and quickly tosses Ianto up onto his desk before getting up and leaning over him. Not the first time it happened, but it always surprises Ianto. It might be because he thinks the desk will just break one of these days and then they’ll have to fix it.

Jack chuckles again, deep and rich, while he starts nipping along Ianto’s collarbone. “You’re thinking again.”

Ianto vaguely wonders if those 51st century hormones also let Jack read minds or, at the very least, pick up fleeting emotional impressions. But Jack doesn’t waste much time, a hand slipping underneath Ianto’s pants and underwear and most coherent thought vanishes from Ianto’s mind.

And right then, a thunk comes from the box. Ianto almost groans as he turns and looks over. Why do these things insist on happening when he’s halfway to getting laid?

“Duty calls.” Jack grins at him.

“There are times I wish duty would just go fuck itself.” Ianto mutters.

“Ianto,” Jack sounds appalled as he gets up, quickly buttoning his shirt. “Such language.”

“Bollocks.” Ianto grumbles as he gets up as well, adjusting his clothes.

“Hello?”

They both look up as a strange voice echoes from the main workspace of the Hub. Frowning, they walk out. Ianto glances back at the box, seeing that a piece of it has fallen out. He doesn’t bother with it for now, walking slowly down the steps as Jack takes them two, even three, at a time. There’s a young man standing by Tosh’s work space. He’s got on jeans, t-shirt and a black leather jacket. Ianto’s never seen him before, and judging from the look on Jack’s face this is the first time for him as well.

“And you are?” Jack asks as he comes to a stop about a meter away from the young man.

“Adam, remember?”

The young man steps forward and claps Jack on the shoulder. Ianto pauses for a moment when an expression of confusion flits across Jack’s face before it disappears.

“What’s wrong with me?” Jack laughs. “Adam, of course. Haven’t seen you in ages? Hey Ianto, you remember Adam right?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Ianto comes to a stop beside Jack and offers his hand. “Pleasure.”

“Don’t remember me?” Adam just shakes his head and grins. “You’re a joker, you are!”

The next thing Ianto knows, he’s pulled into a hug. He seriously can’t recall ever meeting Adam before and… no wait, he had. There’re some nebulous memories surfacing now. It was back in London, just before he came to Cardiff…the rest will come to him later.

“Adam!” Ianto shakes his head. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me. Of course I remember you.”  



End file.
